


In Trutina

by Persiflage



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Battlefield, Character Death, F/M, Mild Sexual Content, Non-Graphic Violence, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 05:16:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atropos defies the Fate she set for him to save a young man she loves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Trutina

**Author's Note:**

> I pretty much stole the initial idea of Judi Dench as Atropos, one of the Moirai or Fates, from [this post by tigerstark](http://tigerstark.tumblr.com/post/51416244312/greek-mythology-the-moirai-were-the), but then I added my own twist: I recast Maggie Smith as Clotho (but kept Meryl Streep as Lachesis). I also cast Daniel Craig as Alexander, and Phyllis Logan as Ananke. 
> 
> The words from 'In Trutina' are taken from the English translation of Carl Orff's _Carmina Burana_ which I happened to be listening to when the plot bunny initially bit me with this story, and all-in-all, they seemed apt.
> 
> My thanks to wolfsbride, mysticmelodies and JisforJudi on Tumblr for reading and offering feedback on various versions of this story. Any remaining infelicities are entirely my own!

In Trutina

_I am suspended_  
between love  
and chastity,  
but I choose  
what is before me  
and take upon myself the sweet yoke. 

# # # #

The Sweet Yoke

"You must cut my life-thread," Alexander said softly.

Atropos looked up at him, her failing body cradled in his strong arms. His blue eyes were damp with unshed tears, but she could see the steely determination in his expression and knew that this was one argument with him she could not win: apart from anything else, she didn't have the strength or the breath for a protracted argument.

"Please, Atropos," Alexander begged, and she saw his gaze slide across to where her abhorred shears sat idly discarded on the corner of the bureau, where they'd been ever since they'd moved in here. "I'd far rather die myself than watch you suffering like this. What we had was so good that I don't want my memories of it tainted by watching you dwindle away."

Atropos gave a slight nod; she understood Alexander's point of view, of course, and while she had always rebelled with every fibre of her being against cutting his life-thread, she also knew that his time had come and gone three mortal years ago. She had stolen that much time from Clotho and Lachesis for herself and Alexander, and she knew well that they were lucky to have had even those three years together. While her sisters might never forgive her for this betrayal, as they saw it, of their joint duties, Atropos knew that she could never regret what she and Alexander had shared.

He lifted her carefully from the couch beside the fireplace, the spot in which she'd been sleeping and resting during the last two weeks since her strength and health had rapidly begun to fail her, and carried her across to the bureau. He knew that no one but she could handle her abhorred shears for she had told him of the grave hurt they had caused her sister Clotho when she had tried to seize them in order to forcibly cut Alexander's thread after Atropos had first refused to do so.

"Kiss me one last time, my love," she begged, looking up at him, and aware that her own eyes were now swimming with unshed tears.

He lowered his head and his firm lips met hers softly in a lingering kiss that was the sweetest he'd ever given her, then she reached down and took up her shears.

"Will it hurt?" he asked as he carried her back to the couch.

"No, my love. It will be like falling asleep and never waking up again," she told him. She reached up with her free hand to brush his brown-blond hair off his brow, then slid her hand down to cup his cheek. "You should put me down, and lie down yourself."

He nodded, then set her down to sit on the end of the couch, before stretching out along its length. "I love you, Atropos, and I thank you for the three years we've had together."

"Oh, my love." She couldn't say any more, her voice choking on the words. She reached out and cupped his cheek again, then bent forward to kiss his brow. "Sleep well my warrior, my love." She saw his eyes close, then she closed her own sight on the mortal world and opened her eyes on the realm that lay between the Here and the Hereafter and, with one swift cut, she severed Alexander's life-thread which bound him to his mortal life. As his life force ebbed away, she felt her own returning, and found herself weeping at the injustice.

Moments later she felt a hand on her shoulder and opening her eyes she looked up into the face of her sister Clotho, whose expression was full of far more compassion than she'd expected.

"I'm sorry, Atropos," she said gently.

Atropos could only nod an acknowledgement; Clotho knelt beside her, embracing her, and Atropos found herself weeping again as her sister rubbed a hand up and down her spine. She heard a rustling sound and looked up quickly to see her other sister, Lachesis, come through the door from the garden, her arms full of lilies.

A few hours later, the house was empty; Alexander's mortal remains had been buried according to custom, and the three sisters were back in the realm between the Here and the Hereafter where they normally had their existence.

As Atropos made her way to her old room, she couldn't help reflecting on all that had happened in the last three years…

# # # #

Suspended Between Love and Chastity

Atropos opened her eyes on the mortal world and looked in dismay at the young man with brown-blond hair and blue eyes who lay wounded on the battlefield. She remembered this one: Alexander was his name, and he was a mighty warrior despite his youth. She recalled Clotho spinning his thread of life onto her distaff twenty years ago, and Lachesis measuring out the length of his life thread with her measuring rod. At the time the fact of it being only twenty years had meant nothing to Atropos: she was one of the Moirai, the goddesses of Fate, daughters of Ananke, and it was their joint duty to assign to every mortal being his or her fate, their share in the greater scheme of things. To Atropos fell the task of deciding the manner of each mortal's death and when their time came she used her abhorred shears to cut their life-thread, allowing them to move on to the Hereafter. But when Atropos had chosen the manner of Alexander's death he'd been a mere babe, hours old and lying comfortably in his mother's arms. She had not known then the impact that Alexander would have on her: his strength; his fearlessness that never lapsed into recklessness; his courage; his wisdom, despite his youth; and his beauty – she had seen so many beautiful men and women over the course of her long life and had thought herself immune to mortal beauty, but now she knew she was not.

Despite his wounds, Alexander still looked beautiful, but she knew that would not last for much longer. Her abhorred shears had never felt so despicable: their weight and sharpness were not a matter for rejoicing as they were formerly.

"You must cut his life-thread." Clotho's voice was soft but determined as she spoke behind her sister.

"You must do your duty," agreed Lachesis.

"No." Atropos did not turn to look up at her sisters as they stood behind her, one either side of her shoulders.

"You must," insisted Clotho. "If you do not, I will."

"You cannot," Atropos told her. "You know that you cannot."

"I know that you must," Clotho retorted, "and if you do not then I will do what needs to be done."

Atropos shook her head. "No one but I can wield the abhorred shears. You will take a grave hurt should you try." She glanced up at Clotho, staring up at the auburn-haired woman with a defiant expression.

Clotho put a hand on her shoulder. "Whatever feelings you think you have for this young man will soon pass once you cut his life-thread, and you will forget him again, as you always forget these mortals, as we all do."

Atropos' blue eyes hardened. "Whatever feelings I _think_ I have," she said angrily. "What do you know of my feelings? You, who never have any of your own? You, who have no heart at all?" She wrenched herself out of Clotho's grasp, and turned to both her sisters. "I love this young man, and I will not destroy him."

Clotho's brown eyes darkened with anger. "Do not be foolish, Atropos." She reached out and snatched at the abhorred shears, then recoiled with a cry of pain as she clutched at her right hand.

Lachesis darted towards her younger sister, directing a glare at her older sister as she caught Clotho's wrist up and examined the wound on the other woman's hand. "How could you?" she demanded angrily.

"I did not," Atropos answered, equally as angry. "You both know no one may wield the abhorred shears but me, and I warned Clotho that she would be hurt if she tried."

She turned her back on her sisters and walked towards Alexander. She sheathed the shears at her belt, and knelt beside him, ignoring the mud and blood underfoot, and placed her right hand on his forehead and her left over his heart. Closing her eyes, she concentrated her other sight on where and how he had been hurt, then she sent power flowing down her arms, through her fingers and into his body, healing him from the inside out. Opening her eyes again, she saw he was still unconscious, which would make it easier for her to move him. 

She let out a piercing whistle and Alexander's horse trotted rapidly over; speaking in its ear, she put a hand on its shoulder and it lowered itself until it was kneeling beside her, then Atropos lifted Alexander up onto his horse with a strength that belied her small stature and apparent age (to a mortal she looked like a short woman in her eighth decade, but since she was a goddess, she was vastly older and stronger than she appeared). She mounted the horse behind Alexander as he lay across the animal's shoulders, and with one hand holding him firmly in place, she grasped the reins with the other and spurred her heels against the horse's flanks. It set off at a smart pace across the littered battlefield; Atropos did not look back, so she did not see Clotho leaning on Lachesis as the two sisters made their own way from the site of the massacre.

# # # # 

Alexander woke from what felt like a lengthy sleep with no sense of where he was or what had taken place this day. He opened his eyes and found a pair of blue eyes gazing down at him from beneath a crop of short white hair. He blinked and realised it was a woman, and not a young woman at that, who leaned over him with an expression of mingled anxiety and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice rasping hoarsely as he spoke.

"My name is Atropos," she answered; her own voice was pitched low, yet it sounded cracked, somehow; it was soothing, however, and he allowed himself to relax back against the couch on which he lay.

"What happened?" 

"What do you remember?" Atropos asked in turn.

"A battle. No – a slaughter," he amended. "I – " He paused and pushed himself upwards, looking down the length of his body; he was clad in a plain white robe, rather than his battle gear, but he couldn't feel any pain or injuries. He lifted his head, giving Atropos a baffled look. "What happened?" he repeated. "I was hurt – mortally, I thought."

She nodded, which didn't comfort him. "Yes, you were. But I healed you."

"You – " He flopped back against the couch and closed his eyes. "How did you heal me? And why?"

"I'm a Goddess," she answered, her simple tone implying this should have been obvious to him, which he supposed it had been, he just hadn't wanted to believe it. "I healed you because I didn't want to see you die."

He opened his eyes again and stared up at her. "But if it was my time to die," he said, puzzled.

She nodded again. "You have heard of the Moirai?"

"Of course," he said, then his eyes widened. "You mean, you're one of the Fates, and you saved my life. Why?"

"Because I – " She paused and he was surprised to see a flush of pink that coloured her lined cheeks. "You will think this very foolish," she continued quietly, "but I have fallen in love with you."

"You have?" She nodded a third time, the flush deepening and spreading to her neck. He pulled his hand from under the covers and clasped her hand gently. "I don't think it foolish," he said softly. "I find it surprising, and flattering, but not foolish."

"You don't?"

He shook his head slightly, then lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, his blue eyes fixed firmly on hers. The flush on her face and neck deepened again, spreading to her shoulders, which were bare; her eyes darkened also, and he knew that she was aroused. He slid his hand up her arm, and gently tugged so that she fell onto him, and he immediately wrapped his arms around her shoulders as his lips sought hers for a kiss.

# # # # 

Alexander was flattered to learn that a Goddess desired him, and he responded to her arousal as any virile young man would, but as he lay beside her afterwards, he wondered what would happen next. Atropos had apparently defied Fate to save him on the battlefield, and she had said she'd fallen in love with him, but he wasn't sure what that meant in practical terms. While everyone had heard stories about the likes of Zeus taking mortal lovers, by all accounts those affairs tended not to end well.

He found he was hoping for a happier outcome for himself: Atropos intrigued him, not least because she was Divine, but also because she had been both passionate and tender during their love-making. He was also curious to know how or when she had fallen in love with him since that implied that she knew more of him than he did of her.

He supposed that some men, particularly young men like himself, would have been put off by Atropos' appearance since she looked several decades older than him, but he knew that she had to be vastly older than even her outward appearance implied, so her wrinkles didn't discourage him in any manner.

# # # #

What Is Before Me

Alexander never gave the least sign of regret at giving up the life of the warrior for that of a farmer. Instead he settled into his new role with every sign of happiness, and Atropos watched him closely, if covertly, for any indication that he was discontented; however she saw nothing but pleasure and love in his eyes whenever they rested on her. He delighted in his role as her lover, and she felt no regret at giving herself over to the pleasures of the flesh with him: his body was young, strong, and well-muscled from the active life of the warrior which he'd led, and she felt more alive when he took her than she had ever felt in the preceding centuries of her life. She had worried that he would be repulsed by her appearance as a far older woman, but he had disabused her of that idea from their very first coitus, and she never doubted him afterwards.

"Don't you mind the lines on my face?" Atropos asked as they lay spent on the couch where Alexander had awoken less than an hour before.

He put his hand under her chin and lifted it, inspecting her closely. "No," he said after several moments. "I think they're beautiful." He raised his other hand to cup her cheek, rubbing his thumb across her skin. "I think you're beautiful."

She felt her face flush with pleasure. "So are you," she said, leaning in to kiss him with a hunger that surprised her. 

He responded eagerly, and she was startled when she felt the pressure of his arousal against her as he tugged her body over his and positioned himself to join with her again. She hadn't known that he would be so virile, but then she had taken so little notice of the majority of the mortals with whom she'd crossed paths over the centuries: Alexander had been the first to properly draw her attention.

# # # #

Atropos and Alexander had very little social intercourse with their neighbours, something which was more easily achieved by the remote location of their farm. She was therefore surprised when someone knocked on their door one afternoon only a few days after their arrival while Alexander was out milking their small herd.

Atropos opened the door and stood astonished at the sight of the woman on the door mat.

"Well," said the other woman testily," are you going to invite me in, or has this new life of yours caused you to abandon your manners as well as your duty?"

Atropos pulled the door open wider and stepped aside to allow her visitor into the house. "Come in, Mother."

"Don't call me that," snapped the other woman, glaring fiercely at Atropos. "You know I hate being addressed in such a sentimental manner."

"Yes Ananke." Atropos gestured to a chair. "Take a seat. Do you want some refreshment?"

Ananke glowered. "Of course I don't," she answered swiftly. "What I want is for you to explain what you think you're doing, playing house with that mortal child instead of doing your duty with your sisters." Ananke scowled. "I've always considered you to be a level-headed being, Atropos, so what put this foolish whim into your head?"

"It is not a foolish whim," Atropos answered, her tone calmer than she felt.

Ananke glared at her. "Of course it is," she snapped, her brown eyes flashing dangerously. "You are a Goddess, one of the Fates, and he is a mortal child. You cannot possibly believe that you're in love with him. What put such a sentimental notion into your head? Not me, I'm sure."

"No, not you," agreed Atropos. Anyone less likely to fall in love than Ananke she could not imagine – even Clotho was more liable to do that, Atropos felt.

"Well?" demanded Ananke, her tone full of impatience.

"I saw Alexander many times when I was on the battlefields or in the army camps to sever the life-threads of the men who had served with him. He was always so courageous and strong; he was gentle with those who were wounded, and immensely patient with those whose wits had gone wandering through mortal fear of what was to come. I admired him and grew fond of him, and eventually that fondness grew into something else all together until, in the end, I wanted to be with him, to spare him from his Fate. So I refused to sever his life-thread; instead I healed him and brought him here.

Ananke stared so hard at her eldest daughter that Atropos wondered what was going through the other woman's mind. "You were always the one who could not be turned," she said at last. "Or so I always believed. But this mortal child will not escape his Fate for long, and if you try to prolong his existence for too long, you will also suffer."

Atropos stiffened. "What do you mean?" she demanded.

"His life-thread is bound to yours now, but the longer you and he remain bound, the weaker you will grow. Eventually the choice will simply be your life or his, and you _will_ have to sever his life-thread if you wish to live. I do not doubt that you will make the right choice in the end, but I wonder how much suffering you will be willing to endure before you make that choice." Ananke scowled, her gaze growing inward, before she spoke again. "You will find his Fate is bound to yours even after you have finally severed his life-thread."

Atropos frowned. "In what way?"

Ananke shook her head. "You will find out in due time. I just hope you come to your senses soon." She got to her feet abruptly, striding to the door before Atropos could move, and was gone moments later.

# # # # 

When Alexander returned from milking the cows he found Atropos in a pensive mood and disinclined for conversation. He was concerned, although he could not say exactly why. After they had eaten supper and cleared up, he invited her to join him in a stroll, and they walked in silence towards the woods that skirted the northern boundary of the farm.

Alexander led the way into the wood, following a path that took them to a clearing where they had eaten a picnic and then made love just a few days ago. He sat on the grass and gently pulled Atropos down onto his lap so that she sat at a right angle to his body, her right shoulder pressed against his left. He wrapped his left arm around her body, then ducked his head and kissed her gently on the mouth. After a few moments she began kissing him back and he felt himself relaxing with a surge of relief that she was responsive. As they kissed he was aware of his growing arousal, but he waited for a sign that she wanted more than just kisses before he made another move.

She murmured his name and he felt her legs shift, so he placed his right hand on her right knee and began gently stroking the skin at the back. She moaned softly, so he allowed his hand to slide up her leg towards her thigh, until eventually it reached her centre; she uttered a breathy "Yes!" so he began caressing her intimately until her body shuddered against his, her inner muscles clenching around his fingers.

"Better?" he murmured as he continued to stroke her lightly, pressing butterfly kisses to her brow, cheeks, nose and chin as her ragged breathing steadied again.

"Yes, thank you." She kissed him fully on the mouth, then shifted off his lap and made him lie flat on his back. She positioned her body over his after making some adjustments to their clothing, and then it was Alexander's turn to moan as she took charge of their love making.

They stayed in the clearing for some time afterwards, both of them dozing comfortably, and when they returned to the house in the fading light, Alexander felt that Atropos had come to terms with whatever had been troubling her.

# # # #

Lachesis watched her sister pacing the room and wondered what she would do next: Clotho had already appealed to Ananke to get Atropos back, and while their mother had indeed gone to see her eldest daughter, she had come back without her, saying that Atropos could not be forced to do her duty, a point of view with which Clotho had no sympathy whatsoever.

She had raged around their sitting room for half an hour, causing Lachesis to fear for their furnishings, then she had fallen ominously quiet, a brooding expression gradually transforming her usually cheerful face into one that more nearly resembled a storm cloud.

"There's only one thing for it," Clotho declared at the end of another half hour, her brooding expression giving way to a resolute one. 

"What?" asked Lachesis. She had been cudgelling her brains to no avail; if Ananke couldn't persuade Atropos to come home and do her duty, Lachesis couldn't imagine anyone else would.

"I'm going to go and see Zeus," Clotho said firmly. "You needn't come with me, if you'd rather not." Her tone was a mixture of magnanimity and condescension, which Lachesis found immensely annoying.

"I shall come with you," she said, her tone just as firm as her sister's had been a short while ago.

"Very well."

In truth, Zeus frightened Lachesis rather more than she was willing to admit to Clotho (she could have told Atropos, she knew, because her eldest sister always scorned the idea of mocking anyone's fears and weaknesses), but she had no desire to sit at home alone while Clotho visited Zeus.

Lachesis found her best cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders, then followed her older sister out onto the wide patio at the back of the house from where they climbed up several flights of steps cut into the mountainside which led to Zeus' palace on the topmost peak of Olympus.

The God was in the middle of a row with another of his daughters, Aphrodite, when they arrived, which didn't bode well for their prospects, Lachesis felt. She found herself hanging back behind Clotho as a young man in winged sandals and a very brief loincloth opened the door to let them in.

Zeus' yells grew louder, booming like thunder off the walls, as Aphrodite came storming through a nearby door into the entrance hall, before turning to yell defiance back at her father; she slammed out of the front door in a swirl of gold silk.

Zeus' face was purple when he stormed through the door in Aphrodite's wake, and Lachesis couldn't help wondering if Divine beings could have heart attacks because he certainly looked on the verge of one.

He stopped dead when he saw Clotho, and Lachesis, peering around her sister's shoulder, watched as he visibly made an effort to calm down before he greeted them. "Oh, hello you two. Did you come to see me or Ananke?"

"You," Clotho said promptly.

He heaved a sigh, then turned away. "You'd better come to my study." He led them up a curving flight of stairs to a large room lined with shelves full of parchment scrolls, and sat down behind a desk, gesturing for the sisters to be seated opposite him.

"What can I do for you?" Zeus asked, rubbing at his beard.

"You have to bring Atropos back home," Clotho told him without preamble.

He raised an eyebrow. "I thought Ananke had told you that she's already been to see Atropos?"

"She did, but she let Atropos remain with that mortal child instead of making her come home."

Zeus shook his head. "If your mother couldn't persuade her to resume her duties, I don't see how you think I can succeed. Atropos has never obeyed me."

"But Father – " began Clotho, and Lachesis heard the wheedling tone in her voice with a wince: Zeus hated it when women tried to cajole him.

"No, Clotho," he said sternly. "I am not going to interfere, so let that be an end of it. Now, is there anything else or can I get back to what I was doing before half my Divine children decided to start plaguing me all at once?"

Lachesis winced again: Zeus being scathing was never a good sign, and she hoped that Clotho remembered that fact and wouldn't provoke him to losing his temper with them instead of Aphrodite.

"That is all, Father," Clotho answered, her tone sounding almost petulant to Lachesis' ears.

"Then I'll bid you good day."

"Good day, Father." Clotho turned smartly on her heel and Lachesis followed her out of Zeus' study feeling quite sure her sister would not be happy with their summary dismissal by Zeus. She wondered if she could find Atropos herself, and join her for some peace and quiet.

# # # #

In the year after she'd first saved Alexander's life, Atropos found herself growing increasingly restless, which she knew was partly the result of the guilt she felt about not carrying out her duties: since no one else could wield her abhorred shears, no one else could take over her role of ushering lives in to the Hereafter. She couldn't regret being with Alexander, but she could feel guilt about the lives which ought to have been ended, and sometimes she would look at her abhorred shears lying idle on the side and wonder if she ought to resume her task, but then she would look at Alexander and know that she couldn't since the first life-thread she would have to cut would be his.

Atropos said nothing to Alexander of the conflicting feelings with which she fought, but he seemed to sense that all was not quite right with their idyll, so he found someone to manage the farm for them, then he and Atropos went travelling together. They interacted with very few people since Atropos did not want to be reminded of her duties; the small number of people whom they did meet mistook Atropos for Alexander's grandmother, and she did nothing to disabuse them of this idea.

As they travelled Alexander encouraged Atropos to tell him of some of the events of her long life since she already knew so much of his own short life given she'd been at all the battles in which he'd been involved since he had taken up his warrior training at the age of thirteen.

"Do Gods and Goddesses get into battles too?" Alexander asked curiously.

"Oh yes," she said with a slight chuckle, "we're not so different from mortals in that regard."

"Have you fought, you personally I mean?"

Atropos' expression sobered immediately. "Yes. I killed Agrius and Thoon, two of the Gigantes." Seeing Alexander's frown, she elaborated, "The Gigantes, or Giants, are Titans, agents of Chaos, children of Gaia, and the bitter enemies of the Gods and Goddesses. They tried to destroy us and our home, Olympus, and there was a mighty battle."

"Do Titans have life-threads, like mortals do?"

Atropos nodded. "A mortal's life-thread, to me, appears as fine as a spider's web silk does to you, but the life-thread of a Titan, or one of the Gods or Goddesses, is like a ship's anchor rope that's been tarred to keep it strong. It would have been an abuse of my powers to simply cut the life-threads of those who opposed us. So Clotho and Lachesis, my sisters, and I, fought just as every other God and Goddess did."

Alexander nodded, his understanding clear in his blue eyes. "How did you kill Agrius and Thoon?"

"Not easily," Atropos answered, grimacing. "I used two bronze maces." She frowned, then said, "I could show you my part in the battle."

Alexander looked intrigued at the suggestion. "How?"

"I can take you into my memories." She held out her right hand and after only a moment's hesitation, he took hold of it, gasping in shock as he seemed to find himself transported onto a mountain.

"Where are we?" he asked, staring around at the mountain range that disappeared into the distance on both sides.

"Olympus," Atropos answered. She lifted her free hand and pointed down the side of the mountain on which they stood. "There I am, with my two sisters."

Alexander looked and saw Atropos, who looked even more diminutive beside her taller sisters, but all three were dwarfed by the Titan looming over them.

"That's Thoon," Atropos said.

The Titan seemed to rear up as high as the stars above the three Moirai; his legs were each easily as big as a mountain, and his arms matched them, while his torso was even more enormous. He was currently dropping boulders the size of a mortal house onto the mountainside and Alexander assumed he was trying to crush the women.

"His aim's not very good," Alexander observed.

Atropos startled him by chuckling at his remark. "How good would your aim be, do you think, if you were trying to kill three ants on a hillside from a couple of hundred feet up in the air?"

"Oh." He digested this, then shook his head. "Not very good."

"Precisely," agreed Atropos. "Now, watch." 

Alexander turned his attention back to the Titan, and the three women he sought to kill, and saw the Titan turn aside and take a step towards a heap of large boulders which Alexander presumed he'd left there for further ammunition. Thoon didn't manage more than one step, however, before he stumbled, then fell, measuring out his whole, immense, length on the mountainside.

"How did that happen?" demanded Alexander, startled.

Atropos smirked, triumph in her blue eyes. "We tied his ankles together," she told him, clearly amused.

Alexander couldn't help laughing at such a prosaic answer, and Atropos' smirk became a full-blown grin before she also began to laugh, her head thrown back and her whole body shaking with her mirth.

Once their laughter had subsided, Atropos nodded at their fallen foe and said soberly, "Watch."

He obeyed and saw Atropos making her way along the length of the fallen Titan's body until she reached his head. As he watched she raised a large bronze mace which she'd been carrying at her side, and Alexander couldn't help wincing slightly as Atropos swung the mace up above her head then brought it down with a mighty thump onto the Titan's chest, crushing his heart and lungs with one blow, while a second crushed his head.

"You're a lot stronger than you look," he observed.

She raised a quizzical eyebrow at him. "I am not a mortal," she reminded him.

He nodded. "I know. It's just – well, your outward appearance is so very deceiving, that's all." He moved closed and kissed her at length. "Not that I don't like your outward appearance," he told her after he'd released her. 

Atropos chuckled. "Down boy. We'll do that by-and-by. First let me show you how we dealt with Agrius."

"Very well." Alexander was aware of his growing arousal, but he did his best to put his desire aside until Atropos had shown him what she wanted him to see.

The scene on the mountain had changed: the fallen Titan was nowhere in sight, and a thunderstorm was raging overhead, lightning bolts spearing down from the sky in rapid succession, which told Alexander that this was no ordinary thunderstorm.

After a moment he spotted Atropos and her sisters: Clotho was lying on the rocky ground with Lachesis bending over her, and Atropos standing on her other side, anxiously keeping watch all round. He saw Atropos' head jerk up as a second Titan loomed into sight, then she was making frantic gestures at her two sisters. Agrius had clearly spotted them women, however, and he bent down towards them, his large right hand sweeping forwards as if to scoop them up.

Before he could do so, however, Atropos scrambled further up the slope and swung her bronze mace with all her might; Alexander winced again as the second Titan was brought crashing to the ground after the blow connected with his kneecap, smashing it irrevocably. The Titan howled in agony even as Atropos ran forward to launch a crushing blow against Agrius' chest, then another to his head.

"There's something infinitely depressing about taking the life of another sentient being," Atropos said as the scene around them faded and Alexander registered again the fact that they were lying in their bed in the inn where they had decided to spend the night on their way to Gaul.

He rolled onto his side and cupped her cheek in his hand. "Yes there is," he agreed, then leaned in to kiss her on the mouth.

Atropos murmured in a pleased manner as his free hand roamed over her skin, then she moaned as his fingers slipped between her thighs and he began touching her intimately.

Once he was satisfied that she was ready for him, he withdrew his fingers, then moved his body over hers and guided his manhood into her. Atropos groaned loudly as he penetrated her, then she seemed to lose herself in the rhythms of his thrusts, and he had to pace himself so that he didn't just rut into her blindly.

# # # #

Ananke was the only member of Atropos' immediate family who knew just where her wayward daughter could be found, but in spite of a number of appeals from Clotho and one, rather impassioned one, from Lachesis, she never made a move to recall her eldest daughter back to her duties even though mortals were failing to die as they were Fated to do all over the earth.

When Zeus mentioned the matter to her one evening, Ananke raised an eyebrow, then said, "No one seems to have considered Atropos' own Fate", which startled Zeus into silence on the subject.

She said the same thing to Clotho the next time her daughter brought up the matter of Atropos' continuing absence and demanded to know when her mother would 'end all this foolishness'.

Like Zeus, Clotho was silenced, but in her case, only for a matter of moments before she demanded to know what they were going to do about all the mortals who weren't dying when they were supposed to do so.

"What do you imagine we can do?" asked Ananke, her tone deceptively mild. "No one else can wield Atropos' shears, and no other tool can cut a mortal's life-thread. In fact, no one except Atropos has the gift of Sight to see a mortal's life-thread, so even if you find a tool to replace her shears, you'd be no better off than you are now."

That did silence Clotho since the Ananke's point was inarguable, but that didn't mean she didn't resent the situation her sister had put them all in. Lachesis said little on the matter, but she suspected that in some way Clotho was jealous of Atropos, and secretly admired her older sister for defying everyone in this matter.

In the meantime, mortals with lasting illnesses lingered on; no one died on the battlefields, no matter how fatal their wounds appeared to be; and neither babies nor their mothers died in childbirth, but since mass communication didn't exist, only the Gods knew that such a situation had arisen: the mortals merely felt themselves unduly lucky, and were duly grateful for such luck.

# # # # 

Atropos and Alexander were away from the farm for two years in total, and Atropos didn't once regret her decision to spare Alexander from his fate. She had taken great pleasure in travelling with him, in introducing him to the many peoples of the world, and exploring the cultures in which they found themselves. It was clear to her that he enjoyed learning new things, and he particularly seemed to relish his discovery of poetry and plays: he would often recite poetry to her in a soft, low voice before they made love, or as she fell asleep.

They had been back from their travels for only a few weeks when Atropos woke one morning feeling listless and weary. Alexander helped her to dress and brought her breakfast, which she couldn't eat. She spent most of the day on the couch by the fire, sleeping and wondering if she could have caught some mortal illness during their travels.

It wasn't until another three days had passed, during which Atropos grew steadily weaker and Alexander grew increasingly anxious, that she remembered Ananke's visit three years earlier, and her warnings about Alexander's life-thread being tied to her own. She knew then what this weakness meant – if she was going to survive, she would finally have to cut Alexander's life-thread. Her mind rebelled against the idea and although she knew how worried Alexander was growing at her increasing weakness, and her inability to eat anything, she couldn't bring herself to do what was necessary.

Finally, though, after two weeks, Atropos knew it was a case of cutting Alexander's life-thread and surviving, or allowing herself to die. She asked him to sit with her and he easily scooped her up to sit with her cradled in his arms, and she told him of the stark choice they faced.

"You have no choice to make," he told her. "There's only one thing to do. You know that, and so do I. You must cut my life-thread."

# # # # 

It was a month after Atropos had finally cut Alexander's life-thread and returned to her duties that she discovered what Ananke had meant when she had told her daughter that her Fate would be bound to Alexander's even after his death: she found that she was pregnant – with twins.


End file.
